Wicked Wands: Schlangenholz (Book One)
by thewrackspurtsrcoming
Summary: The Hogwarts education of our main character begins ten years after the end of the Second Wizarding War. I plan for this story to have seven parts; like the original HP books, each year that the OC spends as a Hogwarts' student will be its own book. Slight AU(none of the next generation, Cursed Child characters, will ever be mentioned; other AU points mentioned in first chapter AN)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: As mentioned in the summary, this story will be a slight AU, and here's why: For one, the children of the Golden Trio will not be mentioned (mostly because I haven't read the script, but also because a lot of thought has gone into the planning of this series, and the events of the Cursed Child, which I believe would've taken place around our OC's seventh year, would probably just get in the way by that time). The second reason may not apply to this first edition of the series, but will be mentioned in the first AN of all others just in case (as this story is still a work in progress). As you'll surely discover later in either this book or the following of the series, our main character aspires to become a wandmaker; now, I've done plenty of research on the topic, but couldn't find anything that explains how wands are actually made, so I've planned to wing it. There are other things I'll be winging, as well, and there are ideas of my own that will eventually become a large part of the story, so apologies in advance if my creative freedom needles at your love of Rowling's magnificent universe. The third is obvious, as Glaw is the daughter of a character of Rowling's creation that I'm pretty sure doesn't have children, at least none of the info on him that I could find stated otherwise.**

**A/A/N: Creative criticism, corrections on incorrect information, and questions are entirely welcome. I do not nor have I ever claimed to be an expert on the Wizarding World and I would greatly appreciate being made aware of any mistakes I may make, which will be corrected, unless they go along with one of the above AU aspects that I'm too invested in to change. That being said, ideas on how to better my own will always be appreciated and may very well be used. As far as incorrect info goes, I'd also like to point out that I'm from the US, so there are parts in which the _Muggle _aspects of England are personally in question, and I completely welcome corrections on that front and will edit accordingly. Also, let it be known that I'm a full time writer, so I'll only be working on this when I have writer's block on my other works or when I just can't resist the urge to pump out a chapter or two, so if anyone ever reads this, please be patient with me. *Reviews and questions will be responded to at the end of every new chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, own any of J. K. Rowling's characters and creations. **

** *I only own Glaw and my other OC characters, so please don't steal them, as I lot of work has gone into their creations.**

Chapter 1: April 25th, 2004

"Come in, Mistress! It's going to rain any minute now!" A faint, slightly gravelly voice, which any that overheard would guess belonged to a very old woman, called from the window of a derelict two story home of dark, moss covered brick, the glass its shrill tones passed through possessing nothing for a view but the dead-end alley to the left of the building's face.

The voice did in fact belong to someone very old and very female, but not the sort that could've been referred to as a woman, and was replied to by the light and smooth voice of a young girl from just past the alley's right hand corner. "Coming!"

The girl, small with an air of indifference, appeared at the mouth of the alley a moment later. In her arms was a wooden box about a foot tall, on top of which sat a black kitten, not many weeks away from being fully grown. The kitten sat proudly, its chin slightly lifted, like a queen being carried in a palanquin by her servants, either unaware or entirely indifferent to the struggle that she was causing her master. The girl's thick black hair, mostly bound at the back of her head, stuck to her sweaty forehead in a few places as she made her way to the kitchen door of the house of questionable sturdiness, which let out right into the alley's center. She would've gone in through the front door, had it not been blocked on the inside by a miniature mountain of abandoned clutter.

The door, standing slightly askew on its hinges at the top of three short stone steps with rusty iron rails, opened without the girl's interference and she quickly slipped inside the kitchen. It shut immediately behind her and she set the box down on plain gray tiles after only two steps inside, sighing as she stretched briefly before scowling down at the black kitten, who had hopped daintily off of the box the moment it was out of the girl's hands. The kitchen of the old house was dark and unwelcoming, the rust and grime that the owner of the old voice had worked so hard to scrub away having only revealed metal and wood of shades similar to that which had hidden them after finally being subdued. The oven near the corner, to the left of the door, was so ancient that the girl had doubted that her old friend would be able to use it and there was no running water; since moving in almost half a year before the day, they'd taken to using an old well that the girl had literally stumbled upon in the monstrously overgrown back yard of the house.

"Mistress Glaw, I _wish_ you would allow me to carry that heavy box in and out for you…-"

Glaw glanced over at Snickers, who was a whole inch shorter than the seven year old girl, with large and floppy bat-like ears, in between which was a small, untidy tuft of pale gray hair. She had large, doleful gray eyes and wrinkled skin of a grayish brown hue. She was a house elf that had served the Llywelyn family, which Glaw's late mother had belonged to, since Glaw's grandfather became its patriarch.

"Nonsense, Snickers. If you did that, the Muggles would see you." Glaw replied in a tone which implied that she was disappointed in her house elf for suggesting something so silly. "And how many times must I tell you not to call me _'Mistress' _when I'm outside?"

"Apologies, Mistress; old habits die hard, as they say. But, surely, you understand the reason that I keep making the mistake." Snickers started as she shooed away the black kitten, who'd been sniffing at a brown package of ham on the kitchen's small island counter, and then began pushing the wooden box across the floor towards its usual place beside the archway of the downstairs hall; she pushed it with one shoulder, using the hand of her free arm to smack herself repeatedly on the back of the head.

Glaw's dark brows lifted above her keen eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest, leaned against a counter near the kitchen door, and watched the elf. "Stop that, Snickers. And no, I don't know the reason."

Snickers immediately stopped smacking herself and then turned her face briefly towards Glaw, just long enough for the young witch to catch how high one corner of her mouth was turned up, "Why, Mistress, it's clearly because of how regally you dress! It's near impossible to mistake you for anything but the great, noble lady that you are, voluntarily or otherwise."

As Glaw glanced down at her old, moth eaten blue skirt, no longer white blouse, and patched sandals, she heard her house elf utter the very sound that had earned her the name given by Glaw's great grandfather. The elf never laughed outright, but would snicker, only behind her hand before she became solely Glaw's servant, or so she claimed. According to Snickers, most house elves couldn't even get away with a faint chuckle; a noticeable sense of humor in general was discouraged, apparently. It was under the service of Glaw's mother, Meddal, that Snickers began to _'let loose', _as she put it. Apparently, Meddal was too kind and selfless a woman to carelessly set down rules or give instructions to Snickers that might've eventually caused her to harm herself. Not long after being given to Meddal, after too many days of hearing nothing but _'no, thank you's' _when asking if her mistress needed anything, the house elf felt forced to help Meddal come up with chores for her. Glaw, unable to clearly remember a time that she hadn't looked up to Snickers as her protector and nurturer, only ever gave the elf instructions or ordered her to do something because of their unspoken understanding that Snickers considered serving Glaw her purpose in life.

"Very funny." Glaw scoffed, shaking her head as she stepped away from the counter and started towards the archway, muttering as she passed Snickers, "Vile little elf."

Another snicker, this one more hearty than the last, followed Glaw as she left the kitchen. The girl made her way down the shadowy hallway of the first floor; the boards of the floor, some rotting, creaked under her footsteps as she passed the short entry hall. Whoever had lived in the place before Glaw and Snickers settled in had apparently left at last through the back door and, for reasons that neither the girl or the house elf could fathom, had left most of the possessions that they hadn't cared to take with them in front of the main door. Snickers had gone through only one of the many old boxes nearest the hall, hoping to discover that some of the discarded objects weren't worthless, and gave up halfway to the bottom of it after sneering at several small decorative objects that she'd referred to as _'useless Muggle baubles'._

Glaw passed two closed doorways, one on either side of her, before turning towards the foot of a dark and rickety stairway and starting up. It curved round near the back of the building and let out on one of two short intersecting hallways on the second floor. Only one of the halls was passable, that being the one directly ahead of the top of the stairs, and the girl carefully made her way down it. She stepped as lightly as she could, because a hole had already opened up in the floor not long after the two moved in, through which Snickers almost fell.

There were three rooms on that hall, the last on the right having been chosen by Glaw for sleeping in, despite Snickers' protests that it was dangerous for anyone to sleep on the second floor of the near crumbling home. One of the other two rooms was empty, while the room directly across from Glaw's was home to a broken crib. Snickers had all but insisted, as it was not in a house elf's nature to demand anything of their masters, that their belongings be kept on the first floor; Glaw had agreed on the condition that she keep the small chest that her mother had left to her in her room upstairs. Normally, the girl only came upstairs to either peruse through the contents of the chest or sleep in the small bed that Snickers had somehow attained for her the day they arrived, but at that hour her destination was the attic, the entry to which was in between the last two doors on the hall.

Glaw pulled the grimy string hanging down beneath the hatch and took a step back as the wooden ladder slowly descended, carefully climbing it after. Nearly half of the attic's ceiling was caved in, time having settled the rubble close enough together that not much water leaked in when it rained, though the floor boards nearest the mess were practically sodden. Glaw's goal was very near the attic's entrance; leaning against the wall opposite the wreckage was a short row of paintings in seemingly good shape, besides a thick layer of dust.

She knelt before them and lifted a hand to swipe at the air in front of them, causing a brief gust of wind pass over and in between the paintings, ridding them of most of their dust. She didn't use magic unless she considered it necessary, because of Snickers' warning that spells cast by wandless children could be dangerous, but she had yet to make a mistake.

Glaw inspected the paintings after _'dusting them off'_, finding that all but one were landscape paintings, while the odd one out was an old portrait of a middle aged man with a crooked bow tie and a toothy, devilish smile. Something about the portrait struck the young witch, perhaps the gleam in the man's brown eyes, and she decided in the second that her gaze took it in that it was the painting she wanted. She was half a moment from reaching out to gingerly lift the silver framed portrait when she heard a sound.

At first, it registered to her ears as nothing more than a hiss, but then she realized that it was in fact a voice that clung adoringly to every _S, _and that it was saying, _"… One of my brothers likes to sleep in between that and the slat behind it… There's a __**warm**_ _layer of filth and dust in between them…"_

Glaw's gaze snapped to her left to see the rounded black head of a full grown snake, both sides of its mouth outlined with a single streak of white, peeking out at her past the edge of an old luggage chest. Despite the eternal set of its facial features, Glaw felt its anxiousness, its indecision, its fear of her, all by seeing its face and hearing its tone. She didn't question why she could understand, at first, but set the painting she wanted back into its place and turned to face the snake.

_"I need it… There are many others here, so your brother will be fine…" _Glaw replied, completely unaware that she wasn't speaking English, though she knew exactly what she was telling the snake.

_"I suppose you're right…" _The snake replied with a brief nod of its head, before disappearing behind the chest.

Glaw shook her head a few times, blinking repeatedly at the painting she needed before grabbing it and hurrying out of the attic. She decided on her way down the ladder that it was probably best not to mention what had happened to Snickers right away, because Glaw had never experienced anything like it before and it worried her. She could only assume that speaking to snakes must be a skill that some witches were born with, but for some reason felt as if she should keep the incident to herself. She'd just closed the attic hatch and was a step past her bedroom door when she froze, a breath rushing sharply in through her nose.

_Someone just… whispered my name, didn't they? _Very slowly, she placed the painting down, so that it leaned against the wall beside her bedroom door and then turned to face it. The door was cracked open an inch and it was dark inside. Glaw frowned heavily at the crack in the door, clearly remembering that she'd closed it that morning. _It's a very old house, but… __**that**__ door has always closed just fine. _She lifted a hand while nudging the door open with the end of her foot. It creaked as it swung slowly open and Glaw's eyes scanned the room at eye level and above, looking for a person hiding in the shadows.

There were tattered curtains on both of the skinny windows at the back of the room, thick and faded gray stripes and red dots over black, that Snickers had found in a closet downstairs. They weren't heavily moth eaten, so they kept most of the light out, which was how Glaw usually liked it. The room was darker than the thickly clouded, raining world outside, though rays from the hidden sun that struggled to break through her curtains cast a faint glow throughout it. Her bed was centered against the back wall in between the windows, with her mother's chest sitting at its foot. On the floor to the left of the door, in an antique silver candle holder that Snickers had kept from her time with Glaw's mother, was a yellow candle.

Glaw quickly knelt down beside it, keeping her eyes on the room before her as she snapped the fingers of her left hand, sudden heat warming the tip of her middle finger after as it moved by memory alone to the candle's wick. Flickering orange light filled the room and Glaw lifted the holder, releasing an almost immediate sigh of relief and standing up straight again when she saw that no one was with her inside.

_"Glaw…" _The strange voice whispered again, silvery slick and haunting; it was inhuman, like the voice of an angel… or a demon.

She let out a yelp and dropped the candle holder. The candle didn't go out after rolling a foot away from Glaw as she clutched at her fragile child's chest, her breath going in and out rapidly as her eyes whipped to the foot of her bed. It didn't take her long to steady herself enough to realize that the voice came from inside her mother's chest. With hands that trembled slightly, Glaw replaced the candle in its holder and then slowly approached the chest with it.

After a few moments of just staring down at the dark gray wood and iron frame of it, she set the candle down beside it and dropped to her knees in front of the chest. From beneath the front of her blouse, she removed a long silver chain, from which hung an old copper key. She leaned down and unlocked the chest, then eased its lid back to rest against her bed board.

Inside was a small, oval framed picture of her mother on top of a thin album book that Snickers gave her, an enchanted music box, an ornate glass pipe that had apparently belonged to Glaw's great-grandmother, a few other magical knickknacks, and a long black box. The box was made of wood with a silver clasp holding its lid closed. The lid was engraved in its center with the Llywelyn crest. At the center of the crest was a greatsword with its tip sunk in the earth, the rest of its blade encircled in ivy. Laying around the greatsword, so that the blade cut the view of it in half, was a lion. Trailing up the lion's back with the end of its long tail caressing the blade and its head resting on top of the lion's, so that they both gazed ahead from the left side of sword, was a snake with a rounded head.

Glaw blinked in an absently awestruck way at the crest, having never paid much attention to it before, but now finding herself intrigued. The lion and the snake were settled into their positions as if comfortable with each other's presence, which Glaw found both vaguely wrong and oddly peaceful. Out of the two, though, it was the engraved snake that interested her most, and she ran her thumb briefly over it, recalling how she'd felt the black snake's emotions despite its lack of facial expression, before frowning at the silver latch. She'd never been able to open it and, though Snickers refused out of duty to answer most of her questions about the box, Glaw could sense that it was a spell that kept her from undoing the latch.

She tried the latch again, thinking that something might've changed, but it still wouldn't budge. Shaking her head at the thing, she reached back to replace the chest's lid. She heard the voice again, much closer and more insistent than the last; it didn't say her name this time, but something that she didn't catch in her surprise. Glaw yelped again and dropped the lid, causing it to fall closed with a loud bang. A second later, she heard a loud crack behind her, but it didn't worsen her startled nerves, because she heard it almost every day.

"Why are you squealing, Mistress? Making so much noise up here… tsk. Is there a rat?" Snickers asked from behind her in the doorway and Glaw slowly turned to look at the house elf, who was giving her a lopsided, curious look while holding a duster in one hand, its unfeathered end resting on her shoulder like a bat.

"No…, no rat. Snickers…, tell me what's in the box." Glaw attempted for what seemed like the hundredth time, as careful as ever to say it as an instruction and not a request.

"You know I can't do that, Mistress." Snickers snickered while shaking her head at the girl, completely indifferent to refusing her, having no need to worry in that case about what happened when house elves disobeyed their masters. "Mistress Meddal forbade me from telling you until the time is right."

"And did she tell you when the time would be right?" Glaw asked, turning fully on her knees to face the house elf.

"Indeed, Mistress, she did."

"When will I know, then?!" Glaw started, clenching her knees with her hands as she believed for a moment that she'd found a loophole in her mother's instructions, which would at least allow her to mark a calendar with the day that she would discover the box's secret.

The elf shook her head, snickering with such energy this time that her small body shook a little, "Mistress Meddal forbade me from telling you that, too." Glaw groaned in frustration and flashed the elf a quick glower before leaning over to lock the chest again. "Why don't you just give up on it, Mistress? That's better than driving yourself mad with wondering…"

"Well, I've just heard it calling my name, I think… So, I felt I should ask again."

"Calling your name…?!" Snickers hissed suddenly, causing Glaw's gaze to snap over to her as she replaced her key beneath her shirt. The elf had taken a step into the bedroom, the duster now at her side and her hand clenched tightly around its handle, though her expression showed only confusion.

Glaw nodded slowly, "I'm not… sure, but- No, I'm sure. It came from the box."

"Did it, now…?" Snickers mused, trailing off as her free hand lifted to her chin before shaking her head and stepping back out into the hallway, only pausing to say over her shoulder, "Fact remains, I'm forbidden to tell you until the time is right."

Glaw huffed, pouting for a second before standing, replacing the candle by the door and blowing it out, and then leaving her room. She picked up the painting and headed straight downstairs and into the kitchen, knowing that Snickers would be in there making dinner, as it was a little over half an hour before they usually ate.

She'd never asked Snickers how she managed to procure packaged meats and vegetables throughout the years that she'd been Glaw's provider, but she showed up with them twice a week and never failed to have all of the three important meals ready every day. The affectionately loyal house elf even went out of her way to make sure she had the right ingredients to season meats and create the soup stocks the way that Glaw liked them.

As expected, when Glaw entered the kitchen with her painting in tow under one arm and both hands holding its weight steady, Snickers was standing up on her worn wooden stepstool, which was actually an heirloom from an ancestor of hers that had also served the Llywelyn family, in front of the kitchen's ancient stove.

"Is it still raining outside, Snickers?" Glaw asked, ending in a huff as she set the end of the painting on the floor and took a rest near the kitchen's island counter.

Snickers glanced over her shoulder at Glaw, turned her large gaze back to the stove, then flashed her eyes quickly back to the girl, eyeing the heavy painting with high lifted thin eyebrows. "Did you carry that all the way downstairs by yourself, Mistress Glaw?"

"I did, Snickers. Now, as I said, I'd like to know whether or not it's still raining outside." Glaw replied in a calm and dismissive tone, glancing briefly at the kitchen's two windows, which had been spray painted black from the inside by Muggle hoodlums.

"It's slowed to a mist, Mistress." Snickers replied almost mechanically, blinking as she glanced towards one of the kitchen's three outer walls, before turning her attention swiftly back to Glaw and narrowing her wrinkled eyelids. "Where did you find that painting, Mistress Glaw?"

The young witch hesitated to answer, because the first thing that came to mind was the conversation that she'd had with the black snake in the attic, but replied as swiftly as she could, before she'd even decided whether or not lying was a bad idea. "The attic."

Glaw was watching as Snickers first relaxed for a split second and then tightened up disapprovingly again, "Mistress, that's a long way to carry such a heavy thing. You should've asked me to do it."

The girl flashed the house elf a slightly pettish look, leaning the top of the painting's frame against her hip and crossing her arms over her chest as she said, "Snick, if I let you coddle me as much as you'd like to, I'd never get to lift a finger."

"Hmph…!" The house elf exclaimed before turning to face the stove again and letting out a light snicker, which was followed a moment later by her muttering, "Still… it's a heavy thing for such a little witch to carry so far…"

Glaw ignored her, settling the painting against the side of the island and leaning back against another side. She stood silent for a moment, listening to the very faint sounds of the now vague rain hitting the painted windows, before she finally murmured, "Tell me when the mist dies, Snickers."

The girl let her head fall back as she closed her eyes, her elbows holding her up against the counter, not expecting an answer. One came almost immediately after, along with the faint sounds of food frying softly in a pan, but Glaw didn't move or open her eyes. Instead, she inhaled the scent of seared lemons and pork, which always brought up a vague memory of her early childhood, when her mother cooked breakfast and dinner every day, a joy of hers that had bothered Snickers intensely.

"Do you plan on going out there again, Mistress?"

"I do." Glaw murmured, her focus now almost entirely directed to the faint pattering that her ears could hear and the searing food that her nose could smell.

"But, dinner will be done in less than an hour and-"

"And, if the rain stops before then, I'll be out on the sidewalk testing out a new spe- … trick and earning us some well needed pounds."

"Mm hmm, and what trick is that…, Mistress?" She added the last almost as an afterthought and said the rest in an amused, but entirely loving tone.

"Well…, I think I can change the painting…" Her eyes suddenly opened to look at the boarded ceiling above, gleaming with humor as she smirked. "Right before the Muggles' eyes, Snickers. They'll probably piss their…- Well, they'll be shocked, but the point is: there'll be a fine little pile in my hat by the time I get back. Whether it be in twenty minutes or more, if I'm lucky and the sidewalk is busy…"

"Changing the paint, Mistress Glaw? Your great uncle Berwyn used to do that when he was young. It drove Old Eira mad seeing his paintings changed, as well as their inhabitants, who'd wake one morning to see their favorite tree gone or the stars in their sky rearranged to form silly pictures, or so my father told me. Master Arian was never on good terms with Berwyn, so I didn't see much of him. Differences in views…, as Mistress Meddal would've said…" Snickers said, ending in a sad sigh, before continuing after a moment in a scolding manner without looking away from the food she was cooking again. "It's fairly toughmagic, Mistress. Berwyn was naturally gifted with magic of that sort; he was a portrait painter most of his life, after all. I wish you wouldn't try it, you being without a wand and all…"

"But, I can't get a wand until I'm older; you've said so yourself…" Glaw blinked with suddenly furrowed brows for a moment as she considered all of the vague things that Snickers had told her about the wizarding world, before she shook her head and closed her eyes again, saying breathily, "Besides, I've already tested it, more than once. Successfully. So, no need to worry."

"Hmph, just be sure you listen out for my call. It won't do for you to eat a cold dinner just to earn us a few extra pounds… It won't…- Mistress Meddal wouldn't like it, she wouldn't like it at all…"

"Snickers, you know I always come as quick as I can when you call and I'll do no different tonight." Glaw started, pushing away from the counter and turning to face the house elf, so she could send a loving look her way before stepping around the island to pick up the portrait again.

"Right now?" Snickers asked, turning to look at Glaw after dumping a mix of vegetables and cheese into the pan on top of the frying meat and lemons and then placing a glass lid over top of it.

"Well, the rain's just stopped; so, yes, right now." The girl flashed the elf a quick half smile before hefting the painting and heading for the kitchen door.

Glaw held it open when she saw the kitten hurrying down the hall to catch up with her and stepped out after her. She hurried down the alley to the sidewalk, wanting to set up her spot swiftly, so that she could at least get a few pounds for her new trick before either rain or dinner interrupted her.

There was a deli directly to the right of the house that Glaw and Snickers were living in, which was flanked by both their alley and another on its right side. Upon first moving in there, Glaw had chosen the alley opening to the right of the deli for performing, because of its closeness to where Snickers would most often be. When the deli owner first saw her, sitting on her wooden box with a black top hat set upside down on the sidewalk in front of her, he gave her a sharp look while she stared wide eyed at him and then shook his head before stepping back into his shop without a word. He hadn't said a word to her since then and she was never bothered by bobbies, so she'd chosen it as her permanent _'stage' _less than a week after their arrival.

She hurriedly set up her box on the same corner as usual, leaning the painting up against the right corner of the deli, faced only partially towards herself and mostly towards the sidewalk. She studied the portrait for a moment before glancing up and down the sidewalk until she spotted a group of four teenagers making their way towards her from the right. She waited until they were about ten steps from passing her before lifting her right hand and moving it to her left, so that it hovered just above the top of the painting. She took a quick, steadying breath and then brought her hand down over the painted man's face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, own any of J. K. Rowling's characters and creations. **

** *I only own Glaw and my other OC characters, so please don't steal them, as I lot of work has gone into their creations.**

Chapter 2: The Wizard Fairburn

Mr. Fairburn hadn't enjoyed the business of the day that he was now coming home from. He'd traveled by the Floo Network to Mr. Blakearby's office from his own fireplace at the Ferret's Den, but had found himself an unwelcome guest, despite the fact that he was expected. He'd been guided down a stuffy and, he thought, pompously decorated hall straight to Mr. Blakearby's office door by an apparently mute house elf with a curled lip and then left to stand there alone, unsure of what to do after hearing not one, but two voices conversing inside. He'd just lifted a hand to knock when the door suddenly opened and Lyle Fairburn found himself being sharply scrutinized by a fairly young man in a creaseless black suit, who proceeded to step around him slowly after a sneer, as if terrified of even the briefest physical contact with him.

After a quick glance down at his own brown checkered suit and yellow speckled tie, Lyle heard Mr. Blakearby calling for someone named Knick Knack to close the door. Assuming that Mr. Blakearby was referring to his house elf and seeing no signs of the creature returning after a look left and right down the hall, Mr. Fairburn stepped inside and closed the door himself.

Mr. Blakearby was visibly surprised to see him and, for the following ten minutes or so, acted as if it was quite rude of Lyle to show up on time for an appointment that he himself had suggested, grudgingly offering him a seat at one of the two leather chairs in front of the large neat desk and a cigar, which Lyle refused as politely as he felt himself able. In the following half hour, Mr. Blakearby proceeded to very graciously entertain Mr. Fairburn with what sounded to him like every topic under the sun except for the one that he'd come to talk about. Twice in that half hour, Lyle had attempted, as blatantly as possible without being curt, to turn the conversation in the direction he desired, but Mr. Blakearby was practically obstinate in his control over the conversation.

When finally it seemed as if Mr. Blakearby was running out of things to talk about and Lyle saw his opportunity arising, the phone on the desk rang. The shady wizard jerked through the cloud of smoke that had formed around himself and his chair, all but lunging for the phone, which Lyle had been studying when he found it impossible to pay attention to what Mr. Blakearby was saying, wondering how in the world he'd come to own one and why.

After picking it up and asking who was on the other end, he noted Lyle's curiosity attention and proceeded to turn the back of his rolling chair to Mr. Fairburn after a sharp, disapproving look and continue his conversation in a voice too low for him to catch. He spun around and hung up after a minute or so and then stood, dusting off his lapels and looking particularly pleased with himself as he informed Lyle that he had urgent business to attend to away from his office and that they'd discuss their business on a later day.

Mr. Fairburn attempted to stop him by saying that it wouldn't take long at all to work out their problem, to which Blakearby replied that his client simply wouldn't wait, that he'd be losing _'more than a pocketful of galleons' _if he didn't leave straight away. Lyle, who'd never been quick to anger, was mere seconds from losing his calm when Blakearby tipped his hat and disapparated. He hadn't been standing there long, with his hands clenched at his sides and his breath going in and out deeply in an effort to soothe his irritation, when Knick Knack suddenly appeared at his side and spoke, disproving his theory that the house elf was mute. The elf told him that, as Mr. Blakearby didn't like people being in his home when he wasn't, Lyle would have to leave.

And so he found himself walking the streets of the gloomy, tightly packed city, trying to calm down and reason the situation out himself before apparating home to tell his wife what had happened. When he rounded a corner onto what a sign told him was Lidia Avenue_, _he was assuring himself that he could justifiably _not _consider Mr. Blakearby a relation by marriage, because Blakearby and his wife weren't really blood related, but only connected by the marriage of Angelica's aunt to Blakearby's father.

He'd just decided that his best bet would be sending his older brother, who had an authoritative bearing and a no nonsense attitude, unlike Lyle, to speak to Blakearby and was about to duck into an alley nearby to disapparate when he heard three sharp gasps from ahead of him and looked up. The gasps came from three teenagers standing in front of a girl who couldn't have been any older than eight years, a smile on her face brought up by their reactions and a black kitten laying at her feet with its head lifted in a dainty, near regal way as it watched the spectators. There was a portrait sitting on the ground beside her and, as Lyle watched, she passed a hand over the face from an inch away and the mustache above the man's upper lip vanished.

Lyle blinked twice at her, his mouth opening slightly, knowing full well that what he'd just witnessed was real magic and not one of the silly, yet occasionally impressive tricks that Muggle magicians pulled. He approached slowly with his hands in his coat pockets, watching as she repeated the passing of her hand over the portrait and made the mustache reappear. The girl smirked good naturedly at the _'ooohs' _and _'ahhhs' _from the three watching and mock bowed to them while sitting after they dropped coins into her worn black top hat. One of the teenagers, a redhaired boy, asked if she was taking requests and, upon her nod, asked if she could give the man in the portrait a feather earring. The girl didn't respond with a _yes _or _no, _but instead lifted her hand so that it hovered above the head of the man in the portrait, paused for a moment as if readying herself, and then passed it down over his face. As soon as her hand had passed over his ears, a white feather earring appeared dangling from his right earlobe, just long enough to tickle his shoulder. The teenage Muggles were, needless to say, delighted, and immediately proceeded to give her more coins before bowing to her in almost perfect unison, laughing at each other, and then leaving.

Once they were alone, Lyle stepped up in front of the girl, where the teenagers were standing before. After showing her a small, kind smile, he lifted his right hand out of his pocket just long enough to point at the portrait before replacing it and asked, "What about the background? Can you change that?"

The girl's eyebrows furrowed for a moment as she studied him before, apparently deeming him unsuspicious, she nodded and turned her gaze to the portrait. Again, she lifted her hand so that it hovered in front of the top of the portrait, took a moment to prepare herself, and then passed her hand down in front of the painting. Like before, the change he'd asked for was visible the moment that her hand passed under the background, the new background being slowly revealed until her hand stilled past the bottom of the frame. Instead of a plain wall behind him, as he'd had before, the painted man's figure now stood before a black and white forest backdrop, the only color in the picture coming from the rays of pale gold light shining through the canopy above, bringing out the gleam in his eyes.

Lyle looked back down at the girl, flashing her a bright, impressed smile and a nod before asking her, "Do you live close by?" She hesitated briefly before showing him a slow nod and he continued his inquiry with, "Are your parents home?"

At this, she frowned at him, her eyebrows scrunching with discomfort as she averted her gaze to her shoes. The kitten at her feet seemed to sense her tensing up, as it lifted its head from where it'd laid on its paws since Lyle approached and craned its neck slightly to look up at her. For a moment, Lyle thought she wouldn't answer and began attempting to think of some way to assure her that he meant no harm. In truth, though he didn't plan on telling the girl, he wanted to speak with her parents about letting her practice magic on the sidewalk of a street that saw hundreds of Muggles crossing through it every day; wandless magic, at that. She'd even gone so far as to entertain Muggles that she didn't know with her magic for money, a direct breach of the Statute of Secrecy, which made him think that she was most likely a Muggle-born whose parents had no idea how she managed to perform such impressive tricks.

He was a second from telling her that he could use magic, too, in the hopes that it would ease her wariness, when she said, "My parents died." Lyle froze, unsure of what to say next, but then she looked up at him calmly, though her eyebrows were still heavily furrowed, and said in an accent that wore the smoothness of nobility well, "I'm well taken care of, though, so you needn't worry. Now, if you don't mind, you're mucking up my business."

Lyle's eyebrows shot up for a moment in surprise, for he'd never spoken to such a keen child before, and then he mirrored her, crunching them down and together sternly, an expression that he knew perfectly well did not look natural when coupled with his soft features. "That's the problem, though, little one." He leaned down a little towards her and glanced around to make sure there were no Muggles passing close enough to hear, before saying in a lowered voice, "You shouldn't be using magic in a place like this. Have you never had anyone about to teach that to you?"

Her eyes widened for a split second, before narrowing again as she showed him a skeptical expression and crossed her arms over her chest, "Magic? Have you just escaped from a nuthouse? It's a trick. I'm a magician. I do tricks, nothing more."

"You and I both know that what you just did to that portrait was no cheap Muggle trick."

At the familiar term, she jumped a bit in surprise and stared up at him with wide eyes for several seconds before frowning, clearly still unsure as to whether or not she should continue speaking to him, but intrigued by his use of it, which certainly intrigued him. Cautiously, she said, "I know I'm not supposed to use magic in front of Muggles, but they think it's a simple street trick like any other. I wouldn't do it if I thought any of them were smart enough to realize that it's real magic."

Lyle straightened again and was thoughtfully quiet for a moment before he asked, "Do you live with Muggles?" At the shake of her head, he continued with, "An aunt? No? Uncle? Grandparent? Who is it that you live with, then?"

The girl glared at him, then, much to his surprise, before saying matter-of-factly, "It's none of your business."

With that, she stood and scooped up the black kitten, sitting it on top of the box she'd been sitting on before hefting the painting under one arm. She then precariously lifted the box, her back bent a bit under both its weight and that of the portrait. Lyle followed slowly behind her as she struggled to pass the front of the store she'd been set up near. Normally, he would've helped her with it, but he knew that if she saw him following her, she might drop it and bolt. The end of their conversation had convinced him that this young witch was living on her own and he was determined to find out where and see to it that she no longer had to.

Lyle was surprised when she turned down the first alleyway past the store and he quickly stopped at the corner, positioned so that she wouldn't see him if she looked over her shoulder. He waited until he heard the sound of a door opening and closing twice, then waited another minute or so in the following silence, broken only by passing vehicles and chatting Muggles, before peering around the corner.

The girl was gone, the only door in sight on the side of a partially dilapidated townhouse. The main door had been left open, so that nothing but a worn, wooden framed screen door blocked the way in. As he slowly approached the door, Lyle could hear the sounds of food frying leaking through the screen and a voice that didn't belong to the little girl. It sounded old, raspy, and small, making Lyle have the dreadful idea that he'd have to scold an old woman. However uncomfortable the thought, though, Lyle knew it was necessary. Normally, Muggle-borns weren't told of their magical abilities until they received their Hogwarts Acceptance letters, delivered personally by a member of the staff, who were there to explain the situation to the Muggle parents. This case was different, though, as the girl was obviously living in squalor and permitted to perform on the streets for Muggle money by her guardian; so, even Lyle, who normally wasn't the type to stick his nose into the business of others, knew that something must be done to keep the girl from continuing her magic shows. If the old woman turned out to be a Muggle, Lyle would inform the Ministry and leave it to them; if she was a witch, Lyle would have a word with her himself before informing the Ministry. Lyle could only assume that the old woman, if a witch, was either senile and forgetful of the laws that protected the wizarding community or indifferent to those laws and the safety of the child; neither possibility was a welcome one. Also, he did not dismiss the chance that the old woman was a practitioner of the dark arts, a possibility that occurred to him after he briefly scanned the outside of the gloomy townhouse with a partially caved in roof, which certainly unsettled him. He had a hard time imagining that any good natured witch or wizard would want to raise a child in such a place.

After a deep breath, Lyle replaced his hands in the pockets of his trousers and started up the rickety steps. He reached out a hand after stopping before the door to grab the handle, his other still in his pocket, firmly gripping his wand. He pushed the door open and took a step inside, only to find himself facing the alley, as if he'd taken a step outside instead of the other way around. Lyle turned back to face the door, frowning heavily at it, before taking the handle and trying again. The same thing happened, again; instead of stepping into the kitchen, as he'd made to do, it seemed that he'd stepped out of the kitchen.

Lyle huffed, took out his wand, and waved it at the door, saying, "Finite."

Replacing his wand in his pocket, he tried stepping through again, only to find that the counter spell had failed to stop the madness of the _'revolving guest door'_. For a moment, he considered that the door was charmed by a very powerful witch or wizard, one with skills that far surpassed his own modest capabilities. He didn't let the idea dissuade him from continuing his efforts, though, determined not to simply give up and skip to informing the Ministry about the young witch, just in case he'd spooked her enough that she and the elder wouldn't remain there long. Instead, he took a deep breath and called out, "Loopy!"

A loud crack resounded at the bottom of the steps and Lyle smiled down at the house elf with wild eyes and an equally odd, splayed up hairdo. Everything about the elf was disconcerting to those unused to him, but Lyle had known him since he himself was a baby, and so could feel nothing but affection for the strange being. He wore a faded, yet still somehow bright, yellow smock, a blue and gray scarf around his neck that was wearing at its ends, and a mismatched pair of socks, both the colors of their stripes and their heights different, with one mostly scrunched down near his ankle and the other rising to his knee.

"Master Lyle…" Loopy practically mused, trailing off near the end as his wild eyes roamed and he swayed dizzily on his feet, before meeting his master's gaze again and showing his crooked teeth in a dreamy smile. "What can Loopy do for Master?"

"Dispel whatever charm's been cast on this door, Loopy. I've tried myself, but it didn't work."

Loopy nodded heavily and slipped past Lyle, who backed down one step and moved aside for the elf. The house elf stopped in front of the door and waved his hand in front of it, swaying a bit after and chuckling dreamily before looking back up at Lyle with a warm smile and saying, "You can go through, now, Master."

Lyle beamed at the house elf and patted him on the head before pulling the door open again and saying, "Thank you, Loopy. Stay here; I might need you in a moment."

He stepped through, letting out a sigh of relief when he found himself in a dark kitchen. The sigh died young when he saw the dark haired girl standing in a doorway across from the one he'd had his elf dispel. Her hands were clenched into tense fists at her sides, her stature defiant. Hidden partially behind her and giving Lyle a skulking look, was an old female house elf. Lyle stared at the two of them with wide eyes as his brain struggled to wrap itself around the fact that the girl was living with an old elf, not an old witch.

_*Why? _Was all his mind could come up with in the end.

"Mistress, let me take you away…" The house elf grumbled in a near whine.

The girl shook her head firmly, "No, Snickers. I'm tired of moving around all the time. Don't worry, I won't let this wizard take me from you."

Lyle's expression softened from shock, despite the glare the girl directed at him as she finished, and he dropped to a knee before her, showing her his most genuine smile. "The last thing I want to do is separate you from your elf, girl…"

"What… _do _you want, then?" The girl asked warily, still reluctant to be soothed by his words.

"While there's no need to take… Snickers away from you, there is a need for you to have humans in your life; adults, to nurture your growth in ways that the elf cannot…" He sent a quick glance over the girl's shoulder at the elf to see that she was staring dismally down at her feet and felt a squeeze around his heart at the sight.

The tone used in the little witch's response was only slightly indignant, which Lyle took to mean that she at least partially understood what he was trying to say, but wanted to hear it in his own words, "And what ways are those...? Snickers tucks me in at night, she makes me three meals a day, she… loves me; don't you, Snickers?" She ended confidently, though she didn't smile until after the elf responded with a solemn nod, her bottom lip puckering out slightly.

"I don't doubt that she's done very well in all ways that she can, but… there are many things that an elf can't teach a human child. Not to mention, Snickers can't to take a job that earns her pay, which led to you performing magic for Muggle money-" He held up a hand when it seemed that the girl would argue and was surprised when she did nothing but furrow her eyebrows and avert a sad gaze from him in answer. "As I said, I'm sure she's done all that she can, but it's clear she can do no better for you than this." He gestured around at the place, making a note to question the elf about it later or at least tell a Ministry official to. "You're tired of moving around…, yes?" The dark haired girl nodded slowly after a moment's hesitation. "Then, wouldn't you like a permanent home? And a… larger family? To spend holidays with, sit around the dinner table with? And what about school? Have you thought of that?"

"The Llywelyns have been homeschooled for centuries. It is a tradition that my previous mistress didn't wish to break…" Snickers explained heavily, her tone a bit sharp as she glanced at him with narrowed eyes, as if he'd offended her.

"I see… And who did the homeschooling?" Lyle asked, the pause used to devote the name mentioned to memory; he didn't recognize it as the name of a well known wizarding family, but didn't want to incorrectly assume anything else that had to do with the girl.

Snickers dropped her eyes again, the pout returning slightly as she remained silent for a few moments before saying, "It was always the parents' place to teach the child…"

"Well, then, wouldn't you like for her to have a grown witch or wizard to teach her these things? I'm sure you can't do all of it yourself." Lyle continued carefully, glancing at the girl while he waited for a reply to see that she seemed to be waiting for it, too.

The house elf looked up slowly, glanced at her mistress with a sad gleam in her eye and then nodded slowly, though her eyes remained narrowed on him as she said, "Perhaps… It's true that I can't teach her these things, but Mistress Meddal didn't want her to be known in the wizarding community."

"Did she give you a direct order to keep her from it?"

Slowly and reluctantly, the elf shook her head, dropping her eyes to her feet again, "She didn't, but she had good reason for her opinion on the subject."

"I'm sure she did and… perhaps we can work with that…" Lyle was careful about his next words, knowing that the house elf could take the girl far away in an instant if her mistress asked her to; he could easily send Loopy to find them again, but preferred for them to come with him willingly, lest the girl's first _real _experience with other wizards and witches be a bad one. "For now, all you need do is agree to meet with a Ministry of Magic official, one that can present options for the girl's new home."

Snickers cast him another sharp look, though it was quickly replaced with sadness again as she looked at the dark haired witch and said, "The choice belongs to my mistress, as ever when I haven't been ordered otherwise by her predecessors."

Lyle inclined his head and turned his attention to the girl, "And so? Will you come with me? All you'll have to do is hear out what the Ministry official has to say and…" Here, he struggled not to show his discomfort with lying, but somehow managed to do so. "_If _you would rather not take whatever is offered to you, you and the elf can be on your way."

The girl gave him a skeptical look that quickly weakened as she sighed, flashing Snickers an apologetic frown before saying, "We'll hear what your _official _has to say, then."

Lyle sighed with relief, showing her another genuine smile as he stuck out his hand to her, "Introductions first, then; it'd be rude of me to drag you about without knowing your name. I'm Lyle Fairburn."

"Glaw." The girl replied simply, taking his hand lightly and letting him move it up and down once.

He ignored the fact that she didn't add a family name, attesting it to the fact that she was young and he'd already heard it, saying, "Right. Well, I'm going to have my house elf take you and yours to my home, where you can comfortably await the arrival of an official. Does that sound alright?"

"I suppose…" Glaw replied through a slightly defeated sigh, her eyes still wary on him as he called in his elf.

"Street performing, you say? For Muggles?" Nigel Fordfarer asked in a tone of disbelief before scowling when Lyle nodded.

They were standing in the kitchen of the Ferret's Den, Lyle's ancestral home. The counters were yellow on top and the wood a soft shade of oak. The handles of the cabinets were brass and carved into flowery twigs with a variety of metal insects crawling up them, including caterpillars, praying mantis, ladybugs, and bees. The kitchen was rather small, about eight feet long and six feet wide, the left hand wall and the back leading up the garden door and lined with counters and cabinets. The stove was an old gas piece with gold trimmings that Mrs. Fairburn kept perfectly polished. Directly across from the stove and beside the swinging and rounded wooden door that led deeper into the house was a small round table of wood that matched the counters with delicate yellow flowers and vines painted across its top and edges that were protected from stains and age by an everlasting charm that his great great grandmother cast on it. Mrs. Fairburn was normally a common sight in the kitchen, making most of their friends and family feel at times that she was part of the décor in that room, but she was currently absent, busy in their family room with Glaw and Snickers. No doubt, she was treating them to the cookies and cocoa she'd been making when he arrived a moment after Loopy to tell her that they had some unorthodox guests to be attended to while he waited for the official he'd sent for.

Fordfarer, who'd arrived only a few minutes ago and had already heard Lyle's quick summary of his meeting with the girl, was only a year older than Lyle. They were both in Hufflepuff House during the years they spent at Hogwarts and spent a good deal of time together when they were young, so Lyle knew him well enough to say that he was a kind hearted individual with a well developed empathetic side. When deciding that he wanted to call on an official whom he thought would be gentle with the girl, Nigel was the first person to come to mind.

"What was that house elf thinking?" Nigel muttered, his scowl vanishing as he sighed heavily and rubbed at his temples before saying, "I want to speak to the girl, first, see if she knows anything about where she came from."

"Alright, I'll go fetch her. Why don't you head down to my office?"

"Sure." Nigel replied with a shrug as he moved to follow Lyle out of the kitchen. "'Good a place as any, I suppose."

Lyle simply nodded and they separated just outside the kitchen, Nigel heading right, disappearing around the curve of the warm wooden hall, and Lyle passing through the archway preceding the front door, which led into the family room. The room had a domed ceiling of wood with gems placed into carved crevices in patterns that formed a still garden scene. Magically enchanted to gleam even when there was no light shining on the gems that made it, the mural had always given Lyle a sense of peace. At the back of the room, across from the archway, was a large, rounded fireplace of warm colored stones, varying in shades from brown to yellow to green. A plush curved sofa of yellow and gray fabric sat to the left of the entrance, near the fireplace, with a blanket hand knitted by Lyle's mother covering the back. Across from the curved sofa were two ancient rocking chairs adorned in thick cushions that had little suns on them. An oval coffee table sat in the center between the furniture on top of a likewise oval rug, stitched to depict an elaborate rendition of an Irish beach at sunrise, with four coasters that his wife made set out before the two elves, the girl, and his wife for their mugs of cocoa.

His wife, Angelica Fairburn, sat in one of the two rocking chairs, and Loopy in the other. She had her shoulder length auburn curls pulled up into a messy bun, her full lips turned up into a warm smile as she studied Glaw and Snickers' tense forms with her soft yellow-green eyes. She wore her favorite apron, which was of faded green fabric decorated with the painted handprints of her many nieces and nephews and there was a new pair of fuzzy yellow house slippers on her feet that her sister gave her a week before.

"Lyle." She greeted, her smile relaxing completely the moment she noted his entrance. "I was just telling little Glaw, here, how your ancestor built this place with the help of their Muggle neighbors. This valley that we live in has always been home to gentle hearted Muggles… I've always thought that it's the land, really, enchanted by some good spirit centuries ago." She finished to Glaw and Snickers, causing Lyle to glance over at the two of them.

Glaw was listening with veiled interest, clearly swaying between acting indifferent and greedily soaking up all the information that Angelica was sending her way. Snickers, on the other hand, was not only tense, but now seemed openly offended by what Angelica said, making Lyle suspect, as her refined tones had hinted, that Glaw was from a wealthy wizarding family that valued the purity of their blood. If that were so, though, he wondered what could've possibly happened to that family for Glaw to fall under the care of a house elf.

_Hopefully, the answers are soon to come, _he thought with a sigh.

Glaw glanced up at him, then, and he smiled kindly at her before gesturing for her to accompany him and saying, "The Ministry official would like to speak to you first, Glaw."

The dark haired girl inclined her head, stiffening slightly and seeming reluctant to leave Angelica's company. She followed, however, sending Snickers a wave and saying, "I'll be back in a moment, Snick."

"Yes, Mistress." The house elf grumbled, visibly displeased with being left alone with Lyle's wife by the glare that she sent her after, causing Angelica's cheeks to redden before she sent Lyle a reassuring smile and waved him out, having noted worry in his features as he hesitated in the doorway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, own any of J. K. Rowling's characters and creations. **

***I only own Glaw and my other OC characters, so please don't steal them, as I lot of work has gone into their creations.**

Chapter 3: The Dolohov Girl

Lyle led the girl back down the hall a short ways before following the curve that Nigel disappeared down before. There were several rounded doors lining the halls, one which led to a storage cupboard, one to a bathroom, another to a cozy library, beside which was a small dance studio, and the others to bedrooms. At the end of the hall was a circular wooden hatch in the floor, which Lyle leaned over to swing open before turning to address Glaw.

"Would you like me to go down, first? In case you slip?" He asked kindly, noting that she seemed a bit worried as she gazed down at the wooden ladder lit by warm yellow light.

Glaw frowned up at him a moment, unsure, before she shook her head and replied confidently, "No, I'll be alright."

She climbed down carefully, but quickly, and Lyle followed soon after her. He watched her as she scanned the circular room, taking note of his potions station, his large easel, and the astronomy chart his grandfather had hand carved into the ceiling, the stars charmed to sparkle against a dark and clouded background, creating a simple, unchanging version of the Great Hall ceiling at Hogwarts. There was a loveseat to the right of the ladder and Nigel sat on its right hand cushion.

Fordfarer showed Glaw a reassuring smile when her gaze finally rested on him, her own expression nervous and careful. Lyle moved across his office to turn the cushioned wooden chair before his easel, so that it faced the loveseat and gestured for Glaw to sit there after, feeling that she'd prefer it to taking the seat beside Nigel. She took it with a quick nod of appreciation and sat with a straight back, her legs crossed elegantly at the ankles and leaned to the side together in a ladylike fashion. Lyle took the seat next to Nigel then and waited for his friend to commence the interview.

Fordfarer took a small spiral bound notebook out of a pocket inside his suit jacket and flipped it open after sliding a silver quill out of the spiral, then looked up at Glaw and said, "My name is Nigel Fordfarer. I work in the Portkey Office at the Ministry of Magic and am an old friend of Mr. Fairburn. Before I look into finding you a new home, I'd like to know as much as you can tell me about yourself. To begin, do you know the names of your parents?"

"... My mother was Meddal Llywelyn. She never told me who my father is; not that I remember much from when she was alive, anyway, and Snickers was instructed by her to keep it a secret from me." Glaw replied a bit stiffly as she glanced around the room again, rubbing one arm as if she were cold, though there was a strong heater to the left of the ladder.

Nigel nodded with pursed lips before scribbling the name down, his gaze returning to her after. "I've never heard of the Llywelyns; can you tell me anything about them?"

Glaw sighed heavily, shaking her head so lightly that Lyle thought he'd imagined it at first, before she said, "All I know of them is that I have a grandfather and an uncle in Wales. From the time I was born, 'till I was a little over three years old, I lived with my mother. I don't remember much about living with my mother, like I said, only… little things. When she passed away, she ordered Snickers to serve me and keep me away from the rest of my family. Apparently, my grandfather disowned my mother before I was born and I think she was afraid that they might harm me if I were taken there."

"I see…" Nigel mused, his eyebrows furrowed with curiosity and concern as he scribbled in his notebook. "Do you know how your mother died?"

"She was always sickly... Snickers has said before that it was only a matter of time after I was born." Glaw replied shortly with a brief lift of one shoulder, her gaze averting to the floor.

"She was… ill at the time of her death, then?" Glaw gave him a blank look, as if she thought it a stupid question, but replied with a simple nod while Nigel was looking. "And Llywelyn was her maiden name?"

"I've said that her father is a Llywelyn, haven't I?" She replied exasperatedly, though with only a faint hint of annoyance, her tone mostly weary towards the questioning.

"Right, you have; sorry. Has… Snickers told you anything of the Llywelyn beliefs? Their way of living, if you will?" Nigel continued a bit more softly, now aware that Glaw was uncomfortable.

"They're… a noble and ancient wizarding family, most of which strongly believe that our blood should be kept pure, no mixing with Muggles and whatnot." She ended with a shrug, frowning as if in thought for a moment before adding, "My grandfather shares that belief, and all that make it obvious they don't aren't welcome in the ancestral home. That's what happened to Uncle Berwyn…"

Noting her thoughtfulness made Lyle wonder if her mother was disowned for having a child with a Muggle, but he decided to keep the notion to himself, even from Nigel, whom he guessed might've come up with the same assumption, anyway.

"Alright, Glaw; if that's all you can tell me, I'll ask that you send your elf to me, next."

Glaw nodded as she stood, saying, "That's all I know."

After Glaw ascended the ladder, Nigel said, "An ancient pureblood family from Wales that neither you nor I have ever heard of; what do you think of that?"

Lyle shrugged before placing an elbow on the armrest beside him and stroking his faintly stubbled chin, saying, "It's not impossible, I suppose. The elf _did _say that they've been homeschooling their descendants for centuries."

"I suppose you're right. That would explain it, if they're the type to keep to themselves in all things."

A loud crack resounded in front of them, then, and the two wizards found themselves looking at Snickers, who stood with her little arms crossed tightly over her chest, apparently determined not to look at them in the quiet seconds that followed.

"Would you… like to sit, Snickers?" Lyle asked to break the silence as Nigel studied the elf.

She shook her head resolutely and Nigel let out a light sigh before saying, "Glaw's told us that her mother was Meddal Llywelyn, that she has a living grandfather and uncle, and that her grandfather disowned her mother before her birth… Would you happen to know why he disowned her?"

Snickers mouth formed into a tight, firm line and she remained silent for several seconds before she lifted her gaze to Lyle's and asked in a strong tone, "Will you swear to find her a good home? A home owned by a witch or wizard that will heed the wishes of Glaw's beloved mother?"

"I swear that I will do my best, that I would never see her given to a family that I know she, or _you, _wouldn't be happy with." Lyle replied as firmly as he could.

Snickers held his gaze steadily for a moment before huffing heavily, the sad expression returning as her shoulders slumped lightly, "Mistress Meddal knew it would come to this one day, knew I couldn't keep her hidden forever; hoped it would, really, for Glaw's sake. But, she was explicit in that it should be Mistress Glaw's choice and I can no longer deny that my Glaw is wanting a family…-" The elf took a deep, shaky breath and then set her gaze on Nigel as she answered his question, "Master Arian disowned my dear mistress, because she disobeyed a direct order from him. He ordered her never to speak to a certain wizard again, a wizard that she met when she was a teenager. When they first met at a Quidditch game, which Master Berwyn snuck her out of the mansion to take her to, that wizard became fitfully enamored with milady, and she was… such a soft witch that she gave her heart to him merely for the asking of it...- She did so through letters, which he sent to her over the course of several months, his last containing a request for her hand in marriage. Master Arian was livid when milady told him of their letters and his request, ashamed that his daughter had begun a romantic relationship in secret. He agreed to meet the wizard, however, but the man didn't show up and, not long after, it was learned by Master Berwyn that he was sentenced to life in Azkaban for having been a devoted servant of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. A letter arrived soon after Master Berwyn's discovery from the very same wizard, asking Meddal to wait for him. It was then that Master Arian ordered her never to speak to or of the man again, justifiably disgusted as he was by his life sentence in Azkaban and not wanting such a man to become attached to the noble house of Llywelyn, but milady swore to me that she would wait, and she did. In the year 1996, that wizard escaped from Azkaban and took Meddal away, along with myself, as I swore to serve her before all others when she was born; they were married within a few days… He was captured again not long after their marriage, leaving us alone and my mistress with child. She sent a letter to Master Arian after her husband's reincarceration, but his reply was short, stating simply that she and her unborn child were not welcome at Llywelyn Hall and that their wellbeing would be at risk if they returned."

Nigel had settled his pen down against his notebook, too intrigued by the story to do any more than listen, and Lyle was having trouble keeping his mouth from hanging open as he mentally listed the Death Eaters that escaped from Azkaban in 1996. Thinking along the exact same lines as Lyle, Nigel's first question was, "What is the wizard's name? Meddal's husband? Do you know it?"

"I know it, but it tastes like poison on the tongue… He was a cruel madman, gentle only with she, and Mistress Meddal's love of him is much a mystery to me, though…, as I said, she was always one to love when loved. His name… is Antonin Dolohov."

"Dolohov…" Nigel breathed, shaking his head briefly before muttering, "Merlin's beard…, poor girl." Fordfarer took a moment to collect himself after the surprise before asking, "Is _he_ the reason that you've kept the girl away from the wizarding community?"

"Indeed, he is. Though, Mistress Meddal loved him and knew herself dear to him, she was also aware that his feelings towards all others were cold and she feared that he might harm Glaw in some way if he found her. He was in Azkaban again, after his participation in the second war, when milady sensed her end coming, but she knew that he had connections outside of the prison and worried that he would find a way to reach Glaw if word of her existence got around."

"I see. Well, I can assure you, Snickers, that we will let nothing of the kind happen. Glaw will never see her father if she doesn't want to." Nigel assured the house elf.

"She doesn't know who he is and I can't say that I know how she'll react when she finds out. I used to keep up with news of the wizarding world when Mistress Meddal was alive, but since her death I've done everything to avoid witches and wizards… And I haven't told Glaw anything that I know of the wizarding wars, though I have tried to teach her as much else as I could about our world. She wouldn't even recognize the name; it would need to be explained to her, carefully…"

Lyle sat forwards then and spoke before Nigel could, "Of course, Snickers. I'll tell her myself, if that makes you feel better."

Snickers scowled at him briefly, making him second guess himself, before her face softened slightly and she stiffly inclined her head once, placing her hands together behind her back and turning her gaze back to the floor.

Lyle inclined his head, too, though he knew she couldn't see it, before clapping his hands together lightly and turning his gaze to Fordfarer, "Will that do, Nigel?"

Nigel quietly nodded a moment as he scanned over his notes before snapping his notebook shut and standing, saying as he did with his gaze on Lyle, "For now." He then turned to look down at Snickers and said, "You can return to Glaw, now; I'd like a word with Mr. Fairburn."

Snickers didn't respond before snapping her fingers and disapparating. Lyle stood from the loveseat and faced Fordfarer, raising a single eyebrow in question, to which his old friend replied, "I've got enough information to find her a suitable wizarding family to live with, but that only works if it's true."

"You think they lied to us?" Lyle started in surprise, not having considered it at all before.

Nigel raised a hand and gestured in a way he obviously hoped was comforting, saying, "I didn't get the feeling that they did, but it's best to just make sure. All I have to do is ask Headmistress McGonagall to look her up in the Book of Admittance. If she finds a _'Glaw Dolohov' _in the book, then they're telling the truth and I can give any family that might be willing and able to care for her accurate information about her background. If she really _is _Dolohov's daughter, I wouldn't be able to properly keep my promise to the elf unless the family is aware of the circumstances."

"Mmhmm…" Lyle mumbled thoughtfully as he gazed over at the fire, before turning his eyes back to Fordfarer and asking, "What if her name is under _'Llywelyn'_?"

Nigel shook his head once. "It wouldn't be if Snickers' story is entirely true, but I'll be sure to check just in case. If it's under _'Llywelyn', _I'll have to question all of the elf's information about Dolohov. But, we'll get to that, or we won't, during my next visit. For now, I'm off to Hogwarts."

Noting that Nigel looked weary as he finished speaking, Lyle stopped him before he could turn on the spot and said, "You don't have to rush. I'm sure you've already had a long day at the office."

Fordfarer raised his eyebrows in faint surprise, "You wouldn't mind having those two here over night?"

"Mind? Of course not. You know how easy Angel is with children; she'd probably be angry if I got rid of her so quick. She's most likely already planned dinner to include them, as well. Besides, I still need to tell the girl about her father; I told the elf I would…, so-"

"Yes, yes." Fordfarer started with a warm smirk and a pat on Lyle's shoulder, "It would keep you up at night if you went back on your word. I only questioned it, because those two are obviously from a noble house and I wasn't sure whether or not they'd say or do anything… wicked to you or Angelica, but if you say it's fine, it's fine. I suppose I'll just get home, then, but I'll head to Hogwarts first thing in the morning, since I've the day off tomorrow."

"Thanks, Nigel."

"Don't mention it." Fordfarer replied with a quick dip of his head and a smile before Disapparating.

Lyle let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his pale, honey blonde waves of hair, wondering how he was going to tell the girl about Antonin Dolohov. _Perhaps I should wait, _he thought as he turned to gaze at the fire, _After all, I'm not sure yet what I should do if Nigel doesn't find the name Snickers gave us in the Book of Admittance. _He nodded once to himself, deciding to wait until Nigel's return in the morning to choose whether or not to tell Glaw about what her house elf said. _She's too young to learn such a sad and scary thing, but I may decide that I don't have a choice by tomorrow, _he thought with a sigh before turning away from the fire.

He climbed back out of his office and closed the hatch after a few moments of questioning whether or not he'd made the right choice by telling Nigel not to hurry. Remembering Nigel's use of the word _'wicked' _told Mr. Fairburn that his old friend thought the two of them seemed, not only from nobility and most likely pureblood, but also dark. Lyle couldn't deny that, if the family Glaw's mother came from were comprised of dark witches and wizards with an upbringing centered around the idea of pureblood supremacy, it was entirely possible that the house elf had passed on their beliefs to the girl. Lyle knew that he and Angelica could most likely handle the two if they tried anything, but that alone wouldn't keep him from losing sleep that night.

Lyle found his wife, Glaw, and the two house elves in the kitchen after returning to the living room to find it empty. Angelica was sending the dark haired girl one of her warmest smiles from her place in front of an opened cupboard as she asked her what flavor jam she preferred. Snickers was sitting opposite the girl at their kitchen table with Loopy in the seat beside her, her thin arms crossed tightly over her chest and a grumpy glare aimed at the table as Loopy told her dreamily about a garden gnome that he played tag with that morning, clearly oblivious to Snickers' blatant disdain of him and the situation.

Lyle stayed where he was in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, watching Glaw as she gave Angelica a wary look and replied in a voice that was almost a whisper, "Raspberry, if you please."

Angelica's smile brightened as she said, "That's my favorite."

Lyle beamed at his wife as she turned to take the raspberry jam out of the cupboard, knowing already that she was planning on making a cobbler for desert. He looked back over at Glaw just in time to see a small smile fading from her lips and felt his worry melt from his shoulders as his previous opinion of her softened.

_There's a girl that just wants to have a family again, _he thought before leaving his place in the doorway to take the seat at the table beside the occupied chairs, setting his back to the kitchen while his wife worked on dinner. Some would've said that his trust was too easily earned, he knew, but Lyle liked to make a habit of having faith in his gut feelings. Glaw sent him a brief, uninterested glance before turning her head to watch Angelica while she cooked, while Snickers was eyeing him with worry and suspicion.

"Well, Snickers?" Lyle started good naturedly. "Something to say?"

The elf's eyes narrowed even further as Loopy's voice died and he sent his master a blissful smile, "I was just wondering where the other one went…"

"Home, for the night. But, in the morning he'll start looking for eligible families that you and Glaw can move in with."

Glaw's attention shot over to him, then, and she started in a tone of disappointment, "Already?!"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Tales of Schools & Ferrets

She bit her lip the moment it was out, not having planned to say it when she did, and flashed Snickers a quick, apologetic look when she saw her scandalized expression, knowing that the outburst hadn't been very ladylike of her. She tentatively turned her eyes back to Mr. Fairburn, trying hard to tame the heat of embarrassment in her cheeks as she smoothed out her own expression again. At first, he just looked surprised, but then he smiled at her in a way that made her even more embarrassed, because it was a look one would show a small child that'd said something absentmindedly sweet. Glaw knew that she was indeed a child, but had long considered herself more mature than others her age, and so always did her best to avoid saying or doing anything childish.

Glaw went back to avoiding Mr. Fairburn's gaze as he said, "There's no telling whether or not he'll succeed tomorrow and the both of you are to stay here, tonight, so it's not as rushed as all that. Honestly, I assumed that _'the sooner, the better' _would be your view on the topic."

She was looking at him again and frowning before she could stop herself, unable to understand right away why he couldn't see that the whole thing was nerve wracking for her and that she'd rather it take as long as possible to find her a permanent family. After all, she had no idea whether or not the family that ended up taking her in would even like her. For as long as she could clearly remember, she'd lived alone with Snickers, moving from ramshackle house to remote cottage. She knew what a normal family was supposed to be like, she even vaguely remembered a few things about what it was like when her mother was still alive, but she wasn't sure if she really knew how to fit into one. Glaw was aware that he couldn't see the other reason that she was reluctant to leave the Ferret's Den so soon, because she'd been trying her best to hide it.

It'd been such a long time since she'd been in a home with another human being that she barely remembered what it was like. She had enjoyed listening to Mrs. Fairburn talk about how their home was built, their friendship with two of the oldest Muggle families in the valley, and trying to imagine it. She even enjoyed sitting in their kitchen, watching Mrs. Fairburn as she moved from place to place, grabbing pots and pans here and placing out the spices and herbs she'd need there. Glaw was surprised to realize as she thought about it, that she was rather comfortable around the woman, though she was working to hide it, and that thinking about what their life must be like from day to day gave her a cozy feeling. In the moment, she was sure she'd never admit it, but she was worried that she wouldn't get that same feeling from the home that Nigel Fordfarer found for her.

Snickers cleared up Glaw's confusion before Mr. Fairburn could, snapping the girl out of her thoughts by saying, "He knows we don't want to be around them any longer than necessary, because they're blood traitors."

The realization hit Glaw rather hard, because she'd learned about blood traitors and mudbloods from Snickers, but had never actually been around any, and she suddenly understood what had struck her as off about the monologue Mrs. Fairburn supplied before her husband appeared to fetch Glaw. She'd spent plenty of time around Muggles, though, and thought they could be quite entertaining at times; Snickers had even laughed lightheartedly along with her at some of the stories she'd told her about her experiences while street performing. It had always confused Glaw that Snickers didn't really seem to hate them at times, but at others could be so resolute about their worthlessness and the need to avoid them.

Glaw's gaze flashed over to Mrs. Fairburn when she heard her drop something on the counter and saw that her back was stiff as an arrow for a few seconds before she returned to what she was doing, while a quick look at Mr. Fairburn showed that he was uncomfortable, but trying his best to hide it.

Her eyes hardened when she turned them back on Snickers, who winced at the look in shock and confusion, while Glaw told her firmly, "Never say that word in their presence again, Snickers. It's obvious that they're only trying to help us. They've been nothing but kind…" She resolutely lifted her chin in the air, determined not to look away from the hurt and annoyance that Snickers was showing her. "If this is how all blood traitors are, then I think I'll have to start seriously questioning some of your teachings… Now, you won't say it again, will you?"

"Ohhh…! You sound just like your great uncle Berwyn! Mistress Meddal had a touch of it, as well, but she was wise enough to keep thoughts like that to her-"

"I'm your mistress, now, Snickers. So, answer me." Glaw interrupted calmly, though there was enough authority in the tone that Snickers stopped speaking the moment she began.

Snickers lowered her gaze to the table and poked out her bottom lip a bit, her scraggly eyebrows furrowing in discomfort, "No, Mistress, I will not say it in their presence again." She lifted her gaze quickly, though, met Glaw's gaze, and declared steadily, while her large eyes shined with meaning, "And not because I fear what will happen if I do, but because you bade me not to."

Glaw felt her throat tighten a bit as Snickers faithfully dipped her head. The house elf treated Glaw with the respect that was due to her when necessary, being fairly carefree with her words and quite motherly at all other times, but very rarely did she stress the meaningfulness of her servitude and her dedication to her current mistress. She spoke of Glaw's mother so often, always referring to her also as _'Mistress', _that sometimes the girl thought she didn't take her very seriously. The idea had never really bothered Glaw all that much, content as she was to let Snickers _mother _her, and she usually wouldn't stress her role as the elf's master unless she wanted something very much. Though she'd been outwardly firm and confident in her order concerning the term _'blood traitor', _Glaw hadn't liked scolding the elf when she knew that Snickers was only doing what she thought Glaw's real family would do, hoping to somehow teach Glaw what she would've learned had she grown up in their ancestral home. The house elf's last words and the gentle bowing of her head eased Glaw's guilt, though, and forced her to remind herself that despite what Snickers chose to teach her, she had the freedom to form her own opinions.

Glaw showed Snickers a quick smile when she raised her head again, softening the features on the house elf's face when she saw it, and said, "Thank you, Snickers."

"Yes, Mistress." Snickers said with a relieved smile, simply happy that her master was no longer being stern with her. Her mistress may have been a seven year old girl, but she was her mistress nonetheless, and Snickers' sole purpose in life was to please her; if that meant holding her tongue around blood traitors, then, so be it.

Glaw started a bit when her gaze trailed to the left and she saw Mr. Fairburn smiling tenderly at her. She forced the familiar smile off of her face, leaving just enough emotion in her features to show him that she was still cautious. It didn't matter whether or not being in Mrs. Fairburn's presence was calming and that the two of them were clearly only trying to help her, because she'd been taught for as long as she could remember not to trust other witches and wizards, to avoid them at any cost, really. Though she knew that she would have to learn how to soon, she still wasn't sure how to start and had yet to convince herself entirely that she should.

In the back of her mind, though she didn't allow herself to focus on the vulnerable feeling, she worried that they might think she was being cold with them because she was wary of blood traitors, too. It was a sad thought when paired with the idea that they might be entirely worthy of her trust. She'd never really cared that some witches and wizards were friendly with Muggles and mudbloods, though she never told Snickers so, because she herself had seen the good in Muggles and didn't see why it should matter so much whether or not mudbloods were as powerful as purebloods. They could use magic, too, and weren't there pureblooded wizards who were not as powerful as others? If it wasn't so, then how would any pureblood defeat another in a duel? She understood the idea that witches and wizards would do a better job ruling over the world than the Muggles, that it would make things easier for the wizarding community, but had never really liked the thought of actually enslaving Muggles, as Snickers sometimes hinted at.

"Thank you, Glaw. My wife and I had quite enough of that during our time at Hogwarts; isn't that right, Angel?" Mr. Fairburn called over his shoulder without looking away from Glaw or letting his smile fall.

The girl couldn't keep her eyes from shooting over to where Mrs. Fairburn now stood before the stove, stirring something in a large pot, to see her look at Glaw and show her a relieved smile, visibly relaxing from head to foot as she replied, "Yes, quite enough. Thank you, little one."

"That's alright…" Glaw practically muttered before turning her attention back to Mr. Fairburn and asking, "What's Hogwarts?"

His smile dropped, then, before both he and his wife exclaimed in unison, "What?!"

She sunk down a bit in her seat, though she knew it wasn't ladylike to do so; that wasn't to say that she wasn't used to dismissing Snickers' many lessons on proper etiquette, just that she was always aware of it when she did. Her cheeks heated with embarrassment, but she kept her expression smooth, despite the pointlessness of the endeavor.

"You haven't told her about Hogwarts?" Mr. Fairburn inquired of Snickers as if it were the most unbelievable thing he'd ever had to ask.

Glaw looked over at the elf to see her scowling at him, "Haven't I told you already that the Llywelyn's have always been homeschooled? Why would I waste time telling her about a place she'll never see? Besides, I'd have nothing to tell, seeing as none of the masters I've served ever went there...- Master Berwyn visited the place from time to time, because he was acquainted with one of the professors, but that was after Master Arian cast him out."

"I see…" Mr. Fairburn mumbled, his gaze moving to the surface of the table as he seemed to lose himself in some troublesome thought.

"Well? Aren't you going to tell me about it? It's a school, isn't it?" Glaw started when she couldn't keep quiet any longer, now barely able to hide the entirety of her interest; she'd spent so long hearing about the wizarding world, but unable to enter it, and now, not only could she hear about parts of it that Snickers hadn't explained to her, but she could listen with the knowledge that she was soon to step inside at least some parts of that world.

"It is, but…" Mr. Fairburn sent a tentative look Snickers' way and Glaw could tell by the way his face dropped that the elf was glaring.

She sent Snickers an exasperated look, but tried to keep her tone reasonably soft, in light of their previous dispute, when she asked, "Why don't you want me to hear about it, Snick?"

Snickers' face fell when she looked away from Mr. Fairburn and answered, "You should be raised like a proper Llywelyn, and that means homeschooling. I don't like the idea of these… two, or anyone else for that matter, trying to fill your head with how '_wonderful' _wizarding schools are…"

"What makes you so sure I'll like the sound of it?" Glaw asked a bit haughtily, feeling the pride of nobility that Snickers had taught her to wear on her sleeve rising up as she considered the notion that she should be offended by what the elf was insinuating.

Snickers narrowed her eyes at her Mistress, her eyes glinting with challenge as she replied, "Because, everyday you sound more and more like Master Berwyn and, for as long as I can remember, after he was cast out of Llywelyn Hall, Master Arian would rant and rave about what he heard of him through the grape vine. One of the rumors that angered him the most was that Berwyn was heard saying he regretted not going to Hogwarts when he was a boy, _regretted _being taught solely by my father's master, Eira, _your _brilliant great grandfather."

"Well…, I don't have a Llywelyn to teach me, do I? Besides, it can't hurt to just hear about it. Who knows? The family that Mr. Fordfarer sends us to live with might be brilliant, as well, and I might prefer to learn from them. But..., either way, the choice is up to me."

Snickers opened her mouth to argue, her expression one of strong offense, but a resolute look from Glaw silenced her. They both knew that Glaw was right, that it was her choice. She didn't want to upset Snickers so much, but she hated the idea of not learning about these things at all. She was a witch, after all, and was now in possession of the freedom to know all there was to know about the world she belonged to. She felt it was wrong for Snickers to keep the knowledge from her and, though she knew she was disappointing the elf by even considering it, she also felt that it was wrong to expect her to want to be homeschooled. She understood the Llywelyn pride in teaching their own, but had always felt apart from it when hearing about it from Snickers; as she'd said, she had no Llywelyn to teach her. Glaw couldn't help but wonder if, like the blood traitors matter, she would have a hard time finding anything lowly or wrong with the idea of going to a wizarding school.

"Now, now." Mr. Fairburn started, giving Glaw an apologetic look. "I didn't mean to start another row between the two of you."

"It's alright. This is all just very new and… unexpected. I never much questioned the idea of homeschooling, because I never thought I'd have another option. But, that's not to say I want to go to a school, just that I'd like to hear about it. And as far as Snickers goes, she may be angry with me, but she'll still love me, no matter what I do." Glaw told him matter-of-factly, ignoring the tongue that Snickers stuck out at her after.

"Well, that may be so, but… perhaps we should wait until tomorrow to talk about Hogwarts." Mr. Fairburn replied carefully, obviously wary of becoming the object of Snickers' hatred.

"Please, I'd like to hear about it, now." Glaw started, allowing her sincere anxiousness to show as she leaned forward a bit in her seat.

A plate set itself in front of her and she looked up to see Mrs. Fairburn smiling at her from where she stood in the center of the kitchen, waving her frail looking wand around while full plates and shiny silverware soared through the air to land in front of those waiting at the table. When all the plates and utensils were placed, along with empty bowls and a large pot of stew in the center, Mrs. Fairburn took the empty seat beside Glaw and began spooning stew into everyone's bowls by hand after a quick smile at her husband.

"Seems to me the girl's made up her mind. Go on and tell her about it, Lyle." Mrs. Fairburn pressed him sweetly.

Mr. Fairburn obviously couldn't help the smile that came with his resigned sigh, before he locked eyes with an anxious Glaw and started by saying, "There are wizarding schools all over the world, expertly hidden from Muggles by some of the most powerful witches and wizards in existence, all grand as a dream and filled with enough knowledge to pave the path to whatever future one might want for themselves in the wizarding world." Here, he leaned forwards a bit and continued in a mystifying tone, his eyes bright as he gazed into Glaw's wide pools of hazy blue and held back a chuckle. "Each contain ancient mysteries that even a clever young witch like you would have trouble wrapping your head around…" The last earned him a small, slightly incredulous smirk from said young witch, and he flashed a cheeky smile in return before going on. "The grandest of them all, though, is Hogwarts. It's a vast, seven story castle, which boasts a hundred and forty-four-"

"Forty-two." Mrs. Fairburn corrected before blowing on the spoonful of stew she'd lifted halfway to her mouth.

After sending a glance the woman's way and seeing that she was already eating, Glaw began to do so as well, though she kept her gaze set on Mr. Fairburn and her ears focused to absorb all that he said. "Right, right. It boasts one hundred and _forty-two _staircases, some of which move of their own accord and have trick steps that students have to learn to look out for if they don't want to risk an injury. There's a greenhouse, where Herbology classes are held and students with a keen interest in the subject can spend free time among various magical plants; a Quidditch pitch, where games are held, for those that have a knack for flying... We'll be sure to see that you get on a broom at least once before you go, _if_\- Oh, my apologies! I was just… Um…-"

"Talking as if she were our own." Mrs. Fairburn finished for him, causing both Glaw and Snickers' gazes to snap towards her, the latter of which had just begun to dig into her food before the blatant statement and was now letting some of it spill absentmindedly from the corner of her mouth as she stared blankly at Angelica.

Glaw's gaze snapped over to Lyle's wife just as she swallowed her spoonful of the rather delicious stew that she'd supplied, which had a hint of sweetness that she'd never before detected in Snickers' carefully prepared meals. The girl was incapable of coming up with anything to say in response to Mrs. Fairburn's comment, so she kept quiet, turning her eyes towards Lyle Fairburn while she lifted another spoonful to her mouth, waiting to hear his response with as neutral an expression as she could manage.

"… Perhaps." Lyle replied after a few strained seconds of silence with a sad smile aimed at Angelica. "I suppose I was, but seeing as that won't be happening, we can just make sure that whoever takes her in will see to it…-" Angelica waited a few seconds as Snickers and Glaw ate carefully slow and Loopy ate with his usual enthusiasm, before Lyle continued with, "Either way, we'll give her advice if she wants it… No harm in that, eh?"

"Oh, surely. No harm at all." Mrs. Fairburn replied softly, a small half smile on her lips as she lifted a spoonful of cobbler from the small side platter near her bowl, every being at the table noting the sadness in it, despite her attempts to hide it.

"Right…- Anyhow, the point is, you can be keen on any subject and have many opportunities to delve into it at Hogwarts. It's not just the Care of Magical Creatures or the Herbology teachers that will let you take your interests further than classes might get you; every professor is open to helping dedicated students further their education. For instance, my Ancient Runes teacher allowed me to stay after classes often when I wanted a quiet place to study the subject and I wouldn't have been able to make as many archaeological discoveries as I have if weren't for her… Of course, I still couldn't have reached the places that I have if not for the castle itself. I would explain what I mean by that, but these are things you should learn for yourself, _if _you decide to attend the school, that is."

Glaw found his kind, but dismissive smile slightly antagonizing and knew that she wouldn't be pleased until she heard all of what he had to tell of Hogwarts. She listened closely as he gave a brief summary of the four houses, the attributes they valued, and the rules of the House Cup, thinking that she couldn't see herself worrying about such a thing as a competition between them. On the contrary, she was sure that she'd be too engrossed in her studies to think about much else. Learning as much as she could about the wizarding world was a desire that'd only grown after arriving at the home of the Fairburns, though without a doubt, her desire to learn about magic itself had a stronger pull; during her time alone with Snickers, she'd held her enthusiasm back quite a bit, knowing that her dreams of _'leaving the nest' _saddened and worried the house elf. Now, though, she didn't see the point in hiding it as much, as the fact that she was soon to enter the wizarding world was unquestionable, at least to her. She was sure that Snickers hoped she would turn her back on the opportunity of adoption after meeting the family that Fordfarer chose for her, but was, herself, resolute in the most recent decision to accept them, no matter the circumstances. Trusting them was, of course, another matter; after all, it was her mother that'd wanted her to be wary of her own kind. She did, however, plan to give whoever adopted her the chance to earn her trust.

After telling her a bit about the houses, as well as the founders of both them and the school, Lyle began describing the grounds of the castle. He told her of mermaids and a sunken city in the Black Lake, of the Forbidden Forest, and Hogsmeade, which third year students and above were permitted to visit on the weekends; of these three, it was the mermaids that fascinated her the most, as the only magical creature she'd ever seen in person was Snickers. It was also, however, the vivid underwater scenes of the sunken city which her mind conjured up as he spoke of it that awed her. He spoke of ghosts, next, and then of a particularly pesky poltergeist, whose only fear was the Bloody Baron.

Lyle had just begun one of his own personal tales from his seven years at Hogwarts about the very same poltergeist, who'd interrupted and prematurely ended a class taught by one of said ghosts, Professor Binns, by way of a spray bottle full of Fungiface Potion, the original owner of which was apparently never discovered, when Angelica realized that everyone at the table had finished eating quite some time ago. She let him finish by saying that Binns didn't notice his class' evacuation, all of them second years who'd had no idea that you had to actually ingest the potion for it to work, and continued to teach to an empty room for the duration of the period. Angelica then cleared her throat lightly, smiling warmly at her husband when he looked at her in surprise, and announced the time.

"Right. Quite late, quite late..." Lyle mumbled to himself, straightening himself in his seat a bit awkwardly, as he'd leaned his elbows on the table while he spoke spiritedly of his childhood home away from home.

"Are you normally up past nine, Glaw?" Angelica asked when she noted that the girl didn't look the least bit tired.

"She's normally to bed by eight, but on rare nights, she'll _'secretly' _stay up longer to read." Snickers followed this information up with a small bout of her namesake, earning a dreamy giggle from Loopy and tiny smirks from the Fairburns, while Glaw looked briefly appalled.

When the surprise passed, she had a small smile on her face, as well. "I was sure my blanket was thick enough that you couldn't see the light…"

Snickers chuckled lowly and shook her head, and then Mrs. Fairburn stood up, saying as she did, "Well, we've more than one guest room, beds made and ready. But, there's an extra cot in Loopy's room for you, Snickers, if you'd prefer not to be in a room alo-"

The female house elf shook her head resolutely and interrupted. "I'll sleep within the same walls as my mistress."

"Oh! Of course!" Mrs. Fairburn quickly appeased, her soft gaze flashing over to the elf, while her wand continued to flick to and fro and the empty dishes sailed across the kitchen to rest in the sink. "There's a room right across the hall from ours that has two beds. It's a bit smaller than the others and the window doesn't open, but otherwise-"

"That's alright." Glaw cut in, flashing Mrs. Fairburn a kind smile that disappeared almost instantly, as if she'd done it without thinking and was suddenly self-conscious of the slip up, her eyes quickly turning down to the folded hands in her lap and her voice gone small as she explained, "Snick and I don't mind, as long as it isn't haunted."

"Oh?" Lyle started with an easy chuckle. "I suppose you've lived in a haunted house before, then?"

"Oh, yes." Glaw replied, her gaze lifting instantly and her expression relaxing as she told him, "It was more of a cabin, really, though… The ghost was an old woman that liked to sing lullabies in the wee hours of the morning. Snick could sleep through it, but I woke up every time, so I was often tired during the day. She wasn't very talkative, really, but Snick managed to get an old recipe or two out of her before we moved on."

"I see. Well, not to worry; the Ferret's Den isn't haunted. Not to mention, it's half buried, which means the walls and such don't creak as much as average houses, so you probably won't wake in the middle of the night thinking I've lied to you."

"Half buried…?" Glaw started incredulously, one corner of her mouth twitching upwards, sure that he was joking.

Mrs. Fairburn, done with the transporting of the dishes to the sink, appeared at Glaw's shoulder, then, and spoke before Lyle could after placing a hand on the back of her chair and leaning forward a bit to look at her face. "I'll show you what he means tomorrow morning, dear. For now, off to bed, yes?"

"A- … Alright." Glaw replied, once again realizing that she'd lowered her guard and reigning her enthusiasm in.

Mrs. Fairburn smiled, gave a slight nod, and stepped aside, so that Glaw could push her chair back and stand. Snickers was just behind her after Angelica gestured for Glaw to follow and then started for the hallway door.

When they were all out in the hall, the young witch found herself being led towards the curve, again. She glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the hall, past the swinging kitchen door and the family room archway on the left, where she could see the bottom of an ascending set of yellow-gray stone steps, lit by the flame in a wall sconce beside it, the glass around the flame shaped like a deer's tail. Paying closer attention now than the last time she went down it with Mr. Fairburn, Glaw saw that all the wall lamps looked like this, that they cast a warm, yellowish glow over everything, and that the long, skinny carpet that began at the start of the curve, which she'd only been aware of before by the change of terrain under her feet, showed two lines of brown ferret silhouettes. Their feet faced each other opposite what she supposed was meant to be the rich earth beneath their toes and behind and between them were trees both tall and short, grass, and a variety of small forest shrubbery, so that it looked like the ferrets were chasing each other through the woods.

They passed four rounded doors of pale wood on the right and two on the left, placed in sets of two, one always right next to another, so that they almost looked like double doors, before Angelica slowed to a stop, not far from the hatch that led to Lyle's study. They'd stopped in between two sets of doors that faced one another across the hall. Angelica moved towards the first on the left and opened it.

She stopped with one foot inside the dark room and a hand on the door handle, then turned to looked at them over her shoulder and say, "The room next to this one is Loopy's. If either of you need anything in the night, don't hesitate to knock on his door; he's an odd elf, but he's very kind, so you needn't worry about him refusing to help you."

Snickers nodded tersely, while Glaw simply glanced at the door to the right of the room they'd be sleeping in, thinking that she wouldn't knock even if she did need anything. Asking a house elf other than Snickers to do something for her was too foreign at the time for Glaw's comfort; not to mention, she was sure that Snickers would take offense if she found out about it.

Angelica took another step inside the room, then, reaching around the right hand corner. Her face disappeared for a moment, along with her arm, and then light filled the room and she walked the rest of the way in, moving aside after so they could enter behind her. Glaw and Snickers stepped inside, both given a moment of silence to assess their surroundings.

There were two beds, as promised, one in each back corner of the room. Both beds were singles with matching quilts, sheets, and pillows. The quilts were what Glaw considered top quality at first glance, though the feel of it against her skin would decide whether or not _'looks can be deceiving' _would apply to this situation. They were definitely thick, there was no mistaking that, and were made of mostly yellow fabric with horizontal, crisscrossing stripes of soft, muted green and pale lavender. The sheets were lavender, as well, though this shade was truer to its name, and the pillows were wide with soft green cases to match the quilts' stripes. In between the beds, high up in the wall, was a half moon window with brightly colored glass. The room itself was shaped like one half of the arched double door of a gothic cathedral that Glaw had passed by every day on her way to her _'stage'_ in the small town they lived in before they moved to the city where Fairburn found her. A short, square end table of applewood with a stove-like door on its front was coupled with each bed. The door of each was engraved with the facial features of a ferret, the shape of its nose vaguely outlined, complete with whiskers and faint scratches for fur.

Lying before the feet of the beds was a large and circular crocheted oval rug with a coat of arms in its center of pale gold, white, earthy brown, and silver. Two does flanked the shield, their front hooves raised to rest against its rounded top, while their heads were slightly bowed towards the two ferrets above the shield. The ferrets, one pure white with a pink nose and the other sable with a black nose, were curled into each other like a ball, seemingly at play. There was no helm beneath the ferrets, but a bed of lavender, while the stems of iris flowers intertwined with those of the lavender and the flowers themselves hung down to caress the sides of the shield and the backs of the deer. The shield itself was outlined in pale gold, its base color white with a single branch of earthy brown in its center that had three silver pinecones attached to the ends of its short branchlets, two hanging below and one held up above. Surrounding the coat of arms and making up the rest of the rug, were rings of the four colors aforementioned.

Glaw found her attention entirely taken up by the rug once her gaze found it, the rest of the room forgotten, and she found herself asking without thinking, "Who made that?"

"Oh, the rug?" Angelica responded, appearing at Glaw's right shoulder, the sudden intrusion of her voice into Glaw's distracted mind startling the girl a bit. She relaxed quickly, though, after a glance up at Mrs. Fairburn, and nodded. "Ly- Mr. Fairburn's second great-grandmother crocheted that right after she married into the family. It's the Fairburn coat of arms, that design in the center."

"Your family really loves ferrets, don't they…?" Glaw muttered just loud enough for Angelica to catch, while leaning forwards to study the design more closely.

Angelica chuckled and, without thinking, softly ruffled Glaw's hair as she said, "Well, yes and no…-"

Glaw straightened immediately at the touch, her gaze shooting up to Mrs. Fairburn's with surprise evident in her features, causing the woman to jerk her hand away and flash the girl a sheepish half smile. The girl, realizing that she'd flinched a bit, tried to ease the sudden tension by relaxing her stiff posture, her attention returning to the rug, and asking, "What do you mean?"

"Hmm? Oh…" She cleared her throat and, when she began to explain, her tone was again at ease, "Well, before Lyle's ancestor began building this home in the fourteenth century, he was a wandering naturalist with no coat of arms nor any name other than simply _'Fairburn'. _It was the ferrets that brought him to both a place to settle and a family to give his name to. There was a young woman, you see, who lived in a small hovel near this very spot and had befriended a family of ferrets, whose den nearly touches the walls of this house. Her father, her only caretaker, had recently passed away and she was just getting the hang of things on her own, when she returned to the hovel one fateful evening to find a bear just outside. She'd planned right away to turn and run, but the bear looked over at her before she could and started her way. Now, you see, it's impossible for a person to outrun a bear, so she did the only thing she could think to do; she climbed into a tree beside her hovel and jumped onto the roof. The tale's been told by so many generations, that no one really knows anymore how long she was up there, but at some point, as darkness fell thick over the world, a few members of the ferret family came out to hunt, for they are nocturnal creatures. Well, they saw the bear waiting in front of the hovel and the poor woman perched atop it, and ran off to get help, remembering all the times she'd played with them and sent mice down their tunnels. Luckily, Fairburn was travelling down the road nearest to the hovel at the time and the ferrets happened by him, so they ran out into the road and told him about the danger that the young woman faced-"

"_Told_ him?" Glaw interrupted incredulously, though immediately after the words left her mouth, she was reminded of her conversation with the black snake and her disbelief lost a bit of its strength.

Angelica smirked softly and waved a dismissive hand at the air in front of her as she explained, "Many stories from the Middle Ages tell of animals speaking and people acting as if it's the most natural thing in the world. I don't quite believe myself that that's exactly how it went, but it's how the story was told to me and that's how I tell it… Anywho, long story short, Fairburn saved the young lady with a well-executed Blasting Curse near the bear's feet, causing him to run off. The young lady offered him supper and a place to sleep out of gratitude, which he accepted, but Fairburn ended up staying much longer than that one night. He was naturally enthusiastic about both magical and non-magical creatures, you see, and had never had such close contact with ferrets before, so he stayed around a while to study them. He and the young lady, Elain, fell in love, of course, before he could get it in his head that it was time to set out again. He built her this home after they were married, with the help of the Muggle families already situated in the valley, as I said earlier, and named it after the home of those that brought them together in the first place."

"Hmm…" Glaw mused thoughtfully, before looking up at Angelica and asking, "But, why didn't Elain just take care of the bear herself?"

"…" Angelica's expression was tense for a split second and then she flashed Glaw a small smile and said, "I'll tell you in a moment, after you change into a proper nightgown and crawl into bed, alright?"

"But, these are the only clothes I have…"

"I expected as much. Just a moment." Angelica replied as she reached into one of the deep pockets of her skirt and fished out her wand.


End file.
